Once free of the door, Webster waited just inside the lobby for the Sobrantean to conclude his precipitate entrance. When he did, Webster looked him over with mild curiosity and bowed with great condescension. “Did any gentleman ever tell the senor that he is an ill-mannered monkey?” he queried coolly in excellent Spanish. “If not, I desire to give the senor that information, and to tell him that his size alone prevents me from giving him a nice little spanking.”
“Pig!” the rude one answered hotly. His olive features paled with anger, he trembled with emotion and seemed undecided what to do—seeing which Webster grinned at him tantalizingly. That decided him. No Latin-American, with the exaggerated ego of his race, can bear even a suspicion of ridicule. The officer walked fiercely toward Webster and swung his arm toward the latter's face in an effort to land a slap that was “meant.”
Webster merely threw back his head and avoided the blow; his long left arm shot out and beat down the Sobrantean's guard; then Webster's right hand closed around the officer's collar. “Come to me, thou insolent little one,” he crooned, and jerked his assailant toward him, gathered him up in his arms, carried him, kicking and screaming with futile rage, out into the patio and soused him in the fountain.
“Now, then, spitfire, that will cool your hot head, I trust,” he admonished his unhappy victim, and returned to the hotel. At the desk he paused.
“Who was that person I just bathed?” he inquired of the excited clerk.
“Ah, senor, you shall not long be kept in ignorance,” that functionary informed him. “That is the terrible Captain Benavides——”
“Do you know, I had a notion it was he?” Webster replied ruminatively. “Well, I suppose I'm in for a duel now,” he added to himself as he climbed the stairs to his room. “I think that will be most interesting.”
John Stuart Webster changed into dry clothing and descended to the dining room. Miss Ruey was already seated at her table and motioned him to the seat opposite her, and as he sat down with a contented little sigh, she gazed at him with a newer and more alert interest.
“I hear you've been having adventures again,” she challenged. “The news is all over the hotel. I heard it from the head waiter.”
“Coffee and pistols for two at daylight,” he answered cheerily. “Whenever I see trouble coming and realize that I cannot possibly avoid it, I generally take the bull by the horns, so to speak, and go forth to meet it. I have discovered from experience that the surprise of the attack generally disorganizes the other fellow, for few people care to fight an eager enemy. I see you have sampled the soup. Is it good?”